


how i rest my head on your chest in a combination of guilt and regret

by starraya



Category: Coronation Street
Genre: 29/07/19 add on, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 22:57:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20053927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starraya/pseuds/starraya
Summary: There’s something else she hasn’t told Sophie.





	how i rest my head on your chest in a combination of guilt and regret

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my sister. She’s in the fandom, I’m not.

“Just how many blazers do you own?” Sophie says, crouched down next to Paula’s suitcase in Paula’s hotel room. 

Sophie is helping her pack up her things and move in with her. 

“What can I say?” Paula holds her hands up. “I have a weakness.”

“Yeah, for pink. You have three in practically identical shades.” Sophie zips up the suitcase and stands up. 

“What? You telling me you’ve never wanted a flamingo for a girlfriend?” Paula tries to balance on one leg.

Tries. 

Sophie has to catch her from falling to the floor. 

They both burst into laughter. 

Slowly, Sophie’s face turns sombre and she cups Paula’s cheek with her hand.

“I should have noticed earlier,” Sophie says. 

“Noticed what?” 

“That you haven’t smiled like that in a long time.” 

Paula takes a deep breath, as if she is about to say something. But there’s too much to say. The burglaries. The anonymous phone calls. The threatening text messages. The constant anxiety, rising day by day inside her. 

If she starts talking about it, she’ll never stop. It’ll all come tumbling out. And she’ll start crying again - she’s still embarrassed about nearly falling to pieces in the pub earlier. Still so ashamed about putting a young boy in danger.

She still hasn’t told Sophie about the dead rat on her doorstep. She doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s because, whilst the smell of death is still so rancid in her memory, the sight of the bloody creature still seems surreal. 

People wake up to find dead rats on their doorsteps in movies, not in real life. 

“Paula?” 

Sophie’s voice snaps Paula out her thoughts.

”Wine and curry and some stupid romcom on the TV?”

It sounds as if Sophie is repeating her words for the second time, but Paula doesn’t remember hearing them the first time. 

“Sounds perfect, love,” she says. 

And later that night she lies next to Sophie in bed, tossing and turning until 2AM. 

She gets up out of bed and rummages in her handbag. There’s something else she hasn’t told Sophie. Her thumb traces the cardboard of a packet of cigarettes. 

She hasn't smoked since she was a teenager. And goodness knows, that was a long time ago. And it’s not like she’s started again, only the occasional one when it gets too much. Just for a brief moment of relief.

And she wouldn’t smoke here, anyway. It’s not her house. But she finds it strangely comforting to hold the packet in her hand. 

Someone once told her smoking calms the nerves because of the way it makes you breathe deep. 

That’s all you need to do really.

Just breathe. Deep. 

But she finds it hard to catch her breath these days. 


End file.
